Page 116 of Rivals at Ashmore Castle

‘Doesn’t always follow. Look at our parents.’

‘So what are you going to do in Town today? I have to see Vogel and our banker.’

‘Dairy business. I’ll call in on Aunt Caroline first, though, do the pretty, and hope to catch Grandmère there. Otherwise I’ll have to fit her in later. You should call on her more often, you know.’

‘Not a bit of it. It’s you she loves. She always looks at me as if I have tragically disappointed her. Will you lunch at the club? I could meet you there.’

‘If I have to go to Bruton Street I’ll probably lunch there with Grandmère. Don’t wait for me. I might not even go down tonight if I don’t get everything done.’

‘Well, don’t overdo it, old chap.’

When Richard got to Berkeley Square, Grandmère wasn’t sitting with Aunt Caroline, but Lord Wigston and Mawes Morris were, and his aunt seemed just to be recovering from a fit of laughter.

‘My dear,’ she greeted Richard. ‘You find me being very well amused by these gentlemen.’

‘Just dropped in as we were passing,’ Wigston said, shaking Richard’s hand.

It was not exactly true. Morris had called on him that morning and he had taken the excuse to get out of the house, knowing that Lady Manningtree would always welcome a visit from the two of them. He hated to be at outs with Nina, and it was all over these foolish suffragettes, as they were calling themselves now. He had been relieved when Lady Clemmie had been released early from prison, and assumed that would be the last of her involvement. He had come home one day and found her visiting Nina for the first time since her incarceration.

‘Clemmie’s been telling me about Holloway,’ Nina told him.

‘We were only in the second division for two days, but it was dreadful,’ Clemmie said. ‘We think of criminals as being dangerous creatures we should fear, but these women were only pathetic. How could they be a danger to anyone? Most of them were old, with sunken cheeks and thin white hair. All of them, even the younger ones, were anxious and careworn, broken down by poverty and overwork. How could we shut them up in that grim fortress?’

‘Well, then, I hope you’ll keep away from activities that might get you arrested again,’ he said.

She had looked at him in surprise. ‘Oh, but we must fight harder than ever to get the vote, so that we can change things,’ she said. She told him that three further attempts to penetrate Parliament were already being planned for December. ‘We must keep striking while the government is reeling from the first blow.’ She struck her fist into her palm, an incongruously violent gesture for such a gentle woman.

‘But you will not go yourself?’ he said, horrified.

‘They have said I need not, as I was arrested at the first. But I was in prison for such a little time, I feel I must,’ she said calmly.

After she had left, Wigston had told Nina that Lady Clemmie had apparently taken leave of her senses, and she should not continue the friendship. The closest thing to a quarrel between them had ensued. Things had been cool between them since. Lady Clemmie had not called again, and there had been another episode of disorder on the 13th of December when she and five other women had been arrested and sent to prison for fourteen days. Wigston had told Nina that she was not to be received when she came out. He explained how associating with her could harm his career, and Nina had submitted. He thought she had seemed a little more receptive, but he was still uncomfortable. Mawes Morris did him good because he had long ago forbidden his daughter Lepida to take part in anything like the WSPU actions, and was entirely on Wigston’s side.

‘I’m glad to see you on your feet,’ Wigston said now to Richard. ‘I heard you’d had a bit of an accident. Are you quite recovered?’

‘Yes, except that I can’t remember a thing about it.’

‘Oh, by the by, Tallant,’ Mawes Morris said later, when they had risen to leave, ‘I have an answer for you on that little matter of business you raised with me. I was going to write to you, but if you’re in Town, perhaps we can discuss it later?’

‘Business?’ Richard said vaguely.

‘Some drawings you sent to me,’ said Morris.

‘Oh!’ Richard began, recalling that he had sent Alice’s illustrations of the Gulliver book to him to ask if they had commercial application. Could she illustrate children’s books? Fairy tales…the Brothers Grimm…

Suddenly and shockingly something seemed to click in his mind and he remembered. A flood of images rushed in, like water pouring into a pot. It was a sickening sensation. For a moment his head and his stomach seemed to change places, the room swooped, and he sat down abruptly on the nearest chair, afraid he might either faint or, worse, vomit.

Voices were exclaiming through the clanging in his head. Then a strong hand on the back of his neck pushed his head down to his knees, and someone said reassuringly, ‘Steady, head down, take some deep breaths. It’ll ease in a moment.’

The strangeness passed, he pushed back against the hand and was allowed to sit up. Mawes Morris was standing close by, looking at him searchingly. ‘Better? You went quite white for a moment. Almost green.’

He heard his aunt say something about brandy. Mawes moved away and Wigston was there with a glass in his hand. ‘Drink it straight down, lad.’

He obeyed, felt his heartbeat strengthen and steady, looked around the three concerned faces, and said, ‘I remember.’

‘Remember what?’ Wigston asked.

‘Everything. The day I was missing. What happened to me – the part I’d forgotten.’ He dragged in a breath. ‘I think Lord Shacklock tried to kill me.’